


Short Message Service

by squiddz



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 23:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiddz/pseuds/squiddz
Summary: He got halfway down the page before the phone flashed with a notification again. Another message from Crowley. It took all of three seconds for Aziraphale to fold and pick up the phone.Crowley: soCrowley: what are you wearingAziraphale: What kind of question is that? You know exactly what I'm wearing.---In which Crowley gives Aziraphale a mobile phone, and then tries his level best to sext with him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 465
Collections: Ixnael’s Recommendations, Our Own Side





	Short Message Service

**Author's Note:**

> Well I did it, my first E rated fic. Many thanks to racketghost for the helpful comments and generally making me feel more confident that what I'd written was even vaguely sexy!

There were few things on Earth that brought Aziraphale more joy than discovering a rare book. Off the top of his head, a cup of warm cocoa on a cold evening might come close. The company of a certain red-haired demon also surely ranked highly, especially now that he could freely admit as much. But the point was that in all his 6000 years on Earth, few experiences rivalled the thrill of chancing upon a forgotten manuscript, uncovering words penned centuries ago and held together by decaying leather and sheer force of will.

It was the pursuit of such an object that found Aziraphale in an auction house in Edinburgh. It was the sort of building that could very well qualify as a historical artefact itself, boasting beautiful marble pillars, floor-to-ceiling oil paintings, and several busts of some very miserable looking old men sternly watching over proceedings.

Despite the astonishing selection of literary objects on display in the main hall, there was only one book Aziraphale had his sights on. He'd spotted it in the auction catalogue a few weeks prior and recognised it immediately as one he had mislaid at some point during the 17th century (and, as Crowley could attest, had been somewhat bitter about ever since). Without a moment's hesitation, he'd booked himself a train ticket up to Edinburgh and arrived a day before the auction in order to make use of the viewing hours.

Happily, his journey had been worth the effort. It hadn't taken long after he'd sat down in front of the mahogany table where the book was laid out for him to confirm that it was his long-lost treasure. With a gloved hand, he leafed through the manuscript, enchanted by the detailed illuminations that adorned the delicate pages. It was just as exquisite as he remembered.

"It's a gorgeous item, isn't it?" asked a bright voice with a lilting Scottish accent. Aziraphale looked up from the vellum pages to find one of the clerks smiling at him. She was dressed smartly in a sharp blazer and her dark curly hair was pulled back into a bun. She'd introduced herself as Gemma when she had guided him to the book, and had chatted away with such enthusiasm about the other items on sale that Aziraphale had barely been able to help the minor blessing he'd bestowed upon her.

"As lovely as you promised, my dear," he replied with a kind smile of his own. He turned his attention back to the book only to be startled by something in his breast pocket vibrating against his chest.

The mobile phone. Crowley had given it to him before he left, utterly bored at the prospect of spending two days in Edinburgh looking at old books but not altogether thrilled at the idea of being unable to contact Aziraphale. So he'd handed him a shiny smartphone with exactly one number saved in the contacts list and given him a crash course on the basics of phone calls and messaging. After the phone buzzed in his pocket for the fourth time, he removed one of the cotton gloves he was wearing and whipped the mobile out of his coat with an exasperated sigh.

**Crowley:** angel

**Crowley:** hellooooo

**Crowley:** miss you

**Crowley:** im boooored

**Aziraphale:** You realise you are currently surrounded by an extensive and rather meticulously maintained collection of literature.

**Crowley:** hence the boredom

**Aziraphale:** Why don't you go out for a little bit?

**Crowley:** went to the park, angry swan is back

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. Only Crowley could get himself into a feud with the waterfowl of St James's Park. He was about to put the phone away when it buzzed again.

**Crowley:** <IMG20201302_171552.jpg>

**Crowley:** <IMG20201302_171553.jpg>

**Aziraphale:** Yes I see the murderous look in his eyes, it's a miracle you came out unscathed.

**Crowley:** really. i come to my spouse for moral support after a traumatic ordeal and youre mocking me

**Aziraphale:** Cruel aren't I?

**Crowley:** very

He didn't need to be back in London to see Crowley rolling his eyes at his phone, something he'd managed to perfect into a full body gesture at this point. Trying his best to swallow his laughter, Aziraphale set the phone down on the table next to the book and returned his focus to the beautiful work of calligraphy in front of him. He got halfway down the page before the phone flashed with a notification again. Another message from Crowley. It took all of three seconds for Aziraphale to fold and pick up the phone.

**Crowley:** so

**Crowley:** what are you wearing

**Aziraphale:** What kind of question is that? You know exactly what I'm wearing.

**Crowley:** forgotten what you look like, been too long

**Aziraphale:** You poor dear.

**Crowley:** you wearing that bow tie of yours?

**Aziraphale:** You know very well that I am.

**Crowley:** what would you do if i started untying it

**Aziraphale:** I would ask you what on Earth you think you're doing making me look like a slouch in front of the good people at Lyon and Turnbull.

**Crowley:** pretend youre here with me

**Aziraphale:** Where are you going with this Crowley?

**Crowley:** for someones sake how are you this obtuse

**Crowley:** pretend its just you and me in the back room of the bookshop and i start undoing your tie

**Aziraphale:** Oh. I see what you're getting at.

**Crowley:** a bloody miracle. so humour me, what would you do

Aziraphale felt his cheeks burning as his eyes darted about the auction hall. The handful of other prospective buyers were all engrossed with various objects of desire, while Gemma stood nearby next to a stained bookshelf full of twentieth century first editions, flipping through bits of paper attached to a clipboard. With a very put-upon sigh, Aziraphale looked back down at his phone.

**Aziraphale:** Fine. I would… start kissing you.

**Crowley:** ohh now we're getting somewhere ;) well i would kiss you back and start undoing the top buttons of your shirt. and you?

**Aziraphale:** I suppose I might put my arms around your waist and pull you closer to me.

**Crowley:** good i love having your body pressed up against me. i would take off your waistcoat

**Aziraphale:** I would ask you to carefully put it aside instead of just flinging it in whatever direction takes your fancy like you do with your own clothes.

**Crowley:** …….thats not really the kind of detail we're looking for here

**Aziraphale:** Well I'm sorry that I care enough about my articles of clothing to imagine how I might like them put away.

**Crowley:** ok ok ok i would fold your bloody waistcoat neatly over the back of your desk chair. happy?

**Aziraphale:** Oh yes thank you dear. And I would take off your jacket. You may do with it as you please.

**Crowley:** i would drop the jacket in a big messy heap on the floor right by your feet

**Aziraphale:** You wretched thing.

**Crowley:** then to distract you from that i would undo some more buttons on your shirt so i could start kissing the base of your neck

**Aziraphale:** That does sound rather nice.

**Crowley:** yea? well then id do it loads

**Aziraphale:** I would slide my hand up your shirt so I could stroke your back.

**Crowley:** now youre getting the hang of it

**Crowley:** i would start kissing a trail from your neck down to your collarbone

**Aziraphale:** I would run my hand through your lovely hair while you’re kissing me.

**Crowley:** i love when you touch my hair. i would slide one hand over your chest and rub your nipple through your shirt with my thumb

It was certainly a pleasant enough thought - Crowley at his neck, soft lips brushing against the column of his throat, while his hands glided through strands of auburn. He could almost feel the heat of Crowley’s mouth against his skin, or the teasing drag of those long fingers along his chest...

"Erm, Mr Fell?"

Aziraphale jumped at the interruption, fumbling with his phone like a wet bar of soap. Gemma was looking at him over her clipboard, brow pinched and eyes full of mild concern. Aziraphale hoped his face wasn't as red hot as it felt.

"Do you… need any help?"

Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak only to find that his brain had quite forgotten how to form words.

"You're just looking a little flushed, I wasn't sure if you were perhaps feeling a bit unwell?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine, thank you," he managed to sputter out. She didn’t appear entirely convinced, but flashed him a smile anyway before her gaze retreated back to her paperwork. A hot streak of embarrassment wormed its way through Aziraphale's stomach as several notifications flashed up on the phone in his hand. He clenched his jaw and gave it his best disdainful glare.

**Crowley:** what would you do next

**Crowley:** angel don't leave me hanging

**Crowley:** aaaaaaaaaangel come on

**Aziraphale:** Crowley I'm trying to focus on this very rare manuscript I do not have time for this.

**Crowley:** i think we both know thats not true. if it were you wouldnt have even picked up the phone

**Crowley:** but ill stop if you want

**Aziraphale:** …

**Aziraphale:** I would tilt your head up so I could kiss you on the lips.

**Crowley:** excellent ;)

**Crowley:** i would kiss you too and bite on your bottom lip gently

**Aziraphale:** I would slide my hand down your chest and stroke the bare skin revealed by your obscenely low cut top.

**Crowley:** thats sort of the point of the low cut angel

**Crowley:** id start undoing some more buttons on your shirt and kiss each bit of skin i reveal

**Aziraphale:** I would try to slip my hand down the back of those ridiculous jeans of yours.

**Crowley:** could you perhaps dispense with the commentary on my wardrobe its killing the mood somewhat

**Crowley:** and a little hard to swallow coming from someone who hasnt had a haircut in 6000 years

**Aziraphale:** What's wrong with my hair?

**Crowley:** nothing!!! lets just get back to mentally fooling around with each other please

**Aziraphale:** Very well.

**Crowley:** good. id open up your shirt some more so i could run my mouth over your nipple and do that thing with my tongue you love so much

**Aziraphale:** I must admit I do wish you were doing that to me right now.

**Crowley:** well if someone hadnt fucked off to edinburgh…..

**Aziraphale:** And now who's killing the mood...?

**Crowley:** oh alright!!!!

**Aziraphale:** If I wasn't in Edinburgh, I would start unbuckling your belt and undo the zipper on your jeans.

**Crowley:** id push you back gently and pin you against a bookshelf (making sure no books fell off before you say anything)

**Crowley:** and then id start undoing the buttons on your trousers

**Aziraphale:** I would run my hands down your back and grab your rear, pressing you against me tightly.

**Crowley:** mmm good

**Aziraphale:** And then I’d start lifting up your shirt to take it off over your head.

**Crowley:** i would run my hands down your gorgeous body

**Crowley:** and then id reach down to start massaging your cock

**Crowley:** are you hard right now angel?

To his surprise, Aziraphale found - somewhat mortifyingly - that his trousers were indeed starting to get uncomfortably tight. He swallowed loudly and fidgeted in his chair, which betrayed him with an undignified squeak. Gemma’s head snapped up from her clipboard.

"Are you alright Mr Fell?" she asked.

Aziraphale made a strangled sort of noise at the back of his throat that he hoped sounded like a cough. "I'm… yes, I'm alright."

Gemma tilted her head to the side as her large brown eyes gave him an appraising once over. "You look like you're too warm, can I get you some water?"

He silently cursed the ridiculous involuntary things that his human body insisted upon doing. "Ah, well - it’s - I’m…” He tried to straighten out his thoughts but they’d all become rather slippery and tumbled out in a stuttering mess. “I'm actually… well, I-I-I’m feeling a tad under the weather, I-I'll just pop out. For a little fresh air, that is."

Without waiting for any kind of response, he ripped off the other cotton glove he was still wearing, shoved his phone in his pocket, and hastily stumbled out of the main hall and into a narrow corridor. About ten paces down he found a bathroom and scrambled inside. He locked the door behind him with a click and leaned against it, the back of his head coming to rest with a soft thump.

The bathroom was as ostentatious as the rest of the building, walls painted a rich burgundy with gold leaf detail on the skirting. The ache between his legs quickly turned his thoughts back to Crowley pushing him up against a bookshelf and fondling him. He imagined the warm press of that angular body against his own soft curves, the smell of Crowley’s cologne mingling over the top of the earthy scorched-wood scent that always preceded his appearance and had sent Aziraphale's stomach into fits of backflips for centuries.

He let out a shuddering sigh as he palmed himself through his trousers and took his phone out of his pocket.

**Crowley:** im so fucking hard. are you?

**Aziraphale:** Yes.

**Crowley:** good. wish you were here right now

Aziraphale shut his eyes and tried to picture Crowley in front of him with disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips, golden eyes burning with lust. The thought sent a prickling heat through his stomach.

**Crowley:** because if you were here id start kissing down your chest and your belly

**Crowley:** until i was kneeling in front you

**Crowley:** and then id start kissing the bulge in your boxers

**Crowley:** you know tartan almost looks sexy when its wrapped around your cock

**Aziraphale:** Charmer.

**Crowley:** id put my hands on your hips and start teasing at your waistband with my thumb

**Crowley:** tell me what youd do next angel

Aziraphale imagined Crowley kneeling in front of him, head resting tantalisingly close to his straining cock, staring up through his lashes with his mouth quirked to one side in a self-satisfied grin. Another intense wave of heat washed over Aziraphale as he pictured himself reaching down to Crowley’s face and dragging his thumb over Crowley’s lower lip. He breathed in sharply through his nose and began typing out a message. Crowley may have started this, but words were Aziraphale's domain and he knew exactly the ones he wanted right now.

**Aziraphale:** I would go and sit down on the sofa then tell you to strip naked and get on your knees in front of me.

**Crowley:** oh shit

**Crowley:** someone is getting into this

**Aziraphale:** Would you do what I asked of you or not?

**Crowley:** i would miracle my clothes into the fucking sun if you wanted them off

**Aziraphale:** Good.

**Crowley:** and id get down on my knees for you

**Crowley:** please tell me what youd do next

He could see it now, Crowley between his thighs and sitting back on his heels, watching him with the sort of intensity that made sparks crackle under his skin. A low groan rolled out from the back of Aziraphale's throat at the thought.

**Aziraphale:** I would get my cock out, grab a handful of your beautiful hair and guide your head toward me.

**Crowley:** fuck angel

**Crowley:** i would take hold of you and lick the head of your cock before i took it in my mouth

By now Aziraphale had freed himself from his trousers and was moving his hand in slow, lazy strokes while his mind provided him with the image of Crowley with his lips around him. He could almost feel Crowley's fingertips digging into his hips, the heat of that mouth around his cock. He pictured Crowley looking up at him, strands of hair falling across his face, and it made him throb in his hand.

**Crowley:** would you fuck my face?

**Aziraphale:** Yes darling. I would keep a hold of your hair with one hand and put the other under your jaw so I could hold you still while I fucked into that wonderful mouth of yours.

**Crowley:** fuck

**Crowley:** i would swirl my tongue around you, i love the sounds you make when i do that

**Crowley:** i wish i could hear you right now

**Aziraphale:** So do I darling.

**Aziraphale:** Shall we see how deep you can take me?

**Crowley:** fuck fuck fuck

**Crowley:** yes

**Aziraphale:** Would you take my whole length?

**Crowley:** i would take it all

**Aziraphale:** I knew you would, you’re so good Crowley.

This was an old fantasy of his, something he used to picture during those nights when his loneliness seemed to stretch on endlessly towards the horizon. But now… now instead of the workings of his desperate imagination, it had been rebuilt out of memories of countless evenings fumbling on the sofa, of lazy days spent in the bedroom above the bookshop as they explored each other's bodies. Now he knew exactly how soft Crowley's hair felt entwined between his fingers, how hot and wet that clever mouth was, the extraordinary things he could do with that serpentine tongue. He could clearly see the way Crowley's lips stretched around his cock, could hear the muffled whine when he hit the back of Crowley's throat. Aziraphale started stroking himself a little faster, bucking his hips into his hand as he picked up the pace. A soft moan slipped out of his parted lips before he looked back down at his phone.

**Crowley:** would you come down my throat?

**Aziraphale:** No I think I'd want to fuck you properly darling.

**Aziraphale:** I would pull you up onto my lap so you're straddling me.

**Crowley:** shit. id grab your hair and pull your head back so i could kiss you and shove my tongue in your mouth

**Aziraphale:** I would reach back to grab your arse and spread you apart a bit.

**Crowley:** fuck angel. i would make sure i was already prepared for you

**Aziraphale:** Good. Then I would slip my finger inside you.

**Crowley:** fuck i wish you were here

It had been an endless thrill to find out how easily Crowley could come undone at Aziraphale's hand. Crowley responded so enthusiastically to his touch, to his words, always eager to indulge every one of Aziraphale's desires. He shut his eyes and pictured it as he continued stroking himself, pictured Crowley in his lap, cock hard and dribbling precum, writhing as Aziraphale fingered him. Aziraphale rolled his head back against the bathroom door, whimpering quietly as a familiar tension started building up in his abdomen.

**Crowley:** i would want you inside me

**Aziraphale:** Yes my love. I would grab a hold of your hips and move you so you could lower yourself onto me.

**Aziraphale:** You are an incredible sight when you ride me, do you know that?

**Aziraphale:** Would you put on a show for me darling?

**Crowley:** fuck of course i would

Aziraphale could picture how gorgeous Crowley would look like this - spine arched, head tilted back slightly, arms reaching behind him with his hands planted on Aziraphale's knees. He could imagine Crowley rolling his hips and fucking himself into Aziraphale's lap, his erection bouncing obscenely between them. Aziraphale knew it wouldn't be long before he'd cave and start thrusting his own hips to meet Crowley's rhythm. He thought about running his fingers down Crowley's sides, over the sharp lines of his torso, feeling the taut muscles move beneath his skin. He tried to pretend that his hand was Crowley, warm and tight around him, but it wasn't the same.

All at once, Aziraphale found himself missing Crowley quite fiercely. It was not the way he used to miss him, before the events of Armageddon. It was not the raging wildfire that threatened to consume him on the days he let his thoughts drift a little too far. It was more like a fire lit in a hearth inside his chest, warm and golden and joyously bright.

He was desperate to touch Crowley, to feel the sweat-damp skin of his thighs, to press wet open-mouthed kisses across the flat plane of his chest. He wanted to wrap his hand around Crowley's hard cock and listen to him moan, watch his eyelids flutter as pleasure started taking hold of his body. He wanted Crowley to lean forward into a sloppy urgent kiss and make the needy little sounds he always made as he reached the brink of orgasm.

**Crowley:** shit angel im going to come

**Aziraphale:** I wish I was there to watch you.

**Aziraphale:** You are so beautiful when you come for me.

**Crowley:** fuck

Aziraphale bit down on his lip to stifle the reedy whine that was building at the back of his throat while he fucked into his hand. His breathing was growing ragged and his thighs tensed as wave after wave of pleasure started mounting through his body. He could picture Crowley with his head thrown back, shuddering as he clenched down on Aziraphale inside him. What a beautiful sight he would be, eyes half-lidded and chest heaving, with Aziraphale's name tumbling from his lips.

Eventually it was the thought of Crowley crying out as he came in hot spurts against Aziraphale’s stomach that sent him over the edge. Aziraphale spilled over his hand, a half-silent cry of his own stuttering out of him as orgasm wracked through his body.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed once the aftershocks had subsided. After a few deep breaths through his nose, he allowed himself a quick miracle to clean up the mess he’d made and put himself away. Legs wobbling, he staggered towards the toilet, bringing the lid down and sitting on top of it heavily. He slumped to the side to lean on the bathroom wall, letting himself float in the afterglow for a few moments. He imagined what it would be like if he had really been sitting on the sofa, sunk into the well-worn cushions with Crowley draped over him, boneless and sprawled in a satisfied post-coital stupor. He thought about wrapping his arms around Crowley’s slight waist, about peppering his shoulder and his neck with lazy kisses, about whispering _I love you_ and _You’re so good to me_ and whatever else might come babbling out of his love-drunk mouth.

There was a buzzing in his hand, and he was immediately snapped back to the garish auction house bathroom. He looked down at his phone and, with a pang of guilt, remembered Crowley waiting for a reply.

**Crowley:** fuck fuck fuck

**Crowley:** fuuuck

**Crowley:** angel?

**Crowley:** are you alright?

**Aziraphale:** I think ‘alright’ is probably a conservative estimate for how I’m feeling right now.

**Crowley:** good ;)

**Crowley:** fuck me you got the hang of that quickly

**Aziraphale:** Yes well one doesn't spend millennia reading the workings of human imaginations without picking up a thing or two.

**Crowley:** noted

**Crowley:** wait hang on

**Crowley:** werent you at the auction viewing???

**Aziraphale:** I may have had to run to the bathroom halfway through our conversation.

**Crowley:** wow. rubbing one out over me in a public restroom. dont know if ive ever been more proud of you

**Aziraphale:** The things I do for love…

Aziraphale heaved himself up onto his feet and shuffled to the white porcelain sink, placing his phone next to the tap. In the mirror, his reflection stared back at him a disheveled mess - his hair and clothes were rumpled from where he’d been leaning against the door, and there was still a healthy pink blush across his cheeks. He turned on the tap to splash his face with cold water and ran his hands through his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone flash with another message. He wiped his hands on an impossibly soft towel before picking it up.

**Crowley:** you know i was thinking that it's been a while since i was in scotland

**Crowley:** what would you say if i hopped in the car and drove myself up to edinburgh

**Aziraphale:** I would say that sounds wonderful. And to drive sensibly.

**Crowley:** of course angel

**Crowley:** see you in a few hours

**Crowley:** love you

**Aziraphale:** I love you too darling.

He put the phone away in his pocket, smiling fondly to himself. As he made a few more adjustments to his crooked bowtie, he remembered the book he'd been fawning over not ten minutes ago. Seemed rather unimportant now. It suddenly occurred to him that tomorrow might be better spent wandering the winding streets of Edinburgh with Crowley, rather than sitting in a stuffy old auction hall. There was a charming little cafe he'd spotted earlier on his way over from the station that they could pop in for lunch. Or, perhaps, there might be some reenacting of their exchange to keep them occupied.

As he stepped back out into the corridor, Aziraphale heaved a satisfied sigh, only too happy to admit that there wasn't a book in all of human creation that he prized more than getting to share his life with Crowley.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on [Tumblr](http://heavens-bookshop.tumblr.com)!


End file.
